


they got the money, hey, you know they got away

by genesis_frog



Series: a vine of ivy's pushing her way through (widobrave week 2020) [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Pickpockets, Pre-Stream (Critical Role), background pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genesis_frog/pseuds/genesis_frog
Summary: They’re fucking running. Caleb has a couple extra coins in his pocket and some freshly scavenged spell components, Nott has a very fancy and very modern pocket watch that she nicked off of a man who looked like he had a lot of political power, and the Crownsguard have it out for them.(widobrave week day 1: pre-stream)
Relationships: Nott & Caleb Widogast, Nott/Caleb Widogast
Series: a vine of ivy's pushing her way through (widobrave week 2020) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666243
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	they got the money, hey, you know they got away

They’re fucking _running._ Caleb has a couple extra coins in his pocket and some freshly scavenged spell components, Nott has a very fancy and very modern pocket watch that she nicked off of a man who looked like he had a lot of political power, and the Crownsguard have it out for them.

Caleb and Nott had rocked up to Deastok less than a week ago with the lofty goal of not getting caught and run out of town. “This is a large city,” Caleb had explained. “We are all the more likely to pass undetected.”

And then, of course, it was difficult to get into the city, on account of the walls and guards, and once inside it was difficult to pull any of their usual schemes, on account of there being a lot of guards. Apparently, Deastokians placed a lot of importance on security. So the two had held out as long as possible, scavenging for food and saving every morsel they could, trying desperately to avoid getting in trouble with the law. They stuck with their starvation meals for several days before they could no longer bear it and resorted to the riskiest, but richest, option: pickpocketing.

Caleb’s target was a well-dressed man who seemed to have some wealth, as his clothes were well-tailored, if worn; his silken shirt was patched, the embroidered flowers faded, and there must have been a hole in his pocket, for on occasion coins would fall out of his pants. Caleb, ever so stealthily, would reach down to the street and pick them up. Under his breath, he whispered “One…. two…. three….” as he retrieved them one by one.

Nott’s target was also a well-dressed man, and she recognized that he was a rich asshole, but rather than his money, she was interested in this little device he kept pulling out of his pocket - attached to a chain, metal and round like a makeup container, he could open it like a locket and it made strange ticking noises. Of course, curiosity and the Itch got the better of her and she _had_ to have it - so she waited until he was distracted, grabbed the device (accidentally tearing the chain from his clothing in the process - _how are you supposed to anchor a metal contraption to the cloth lining of your pocket, what poor craftsmanship!_ ) and she _ran_.

Fortunately for Caleb, his target did not seem to mind his taking the coins very much. Unfortunately for Nott, her target _very_ much minded no longer having the metal thing -- he shouted after her and pulled out another metal device (this one like a rod with a handle) and shot _tiny balls of metal at her,_ what the fuck, _is this one of those newfangled gun things???_ Nott narrowly dodged the shots and booked it down street after street. There was a reprieve from the barrage of bullets and it seemed the man had stopped assailing her, but she didn’t take it for the end of their ordeal at all. She found Caleb and snagged his coat with one hand.

“We’ve got to go!” she ordered, barely stopping even to speak, and before he knew it, Caleb was following, running along after her.

Her target might have stopped following her, but the Crownsguard had been alerted to their presence and _they_ had begun to chase them instead, and so Nott pulled Caleb into an alley, pressing herself against the wall and tucking herself behind his body, waiting in the shadow for the thunder of boots to pass. The guards ran by -- a pause, some shouting and direction -- and the boots took off in several different directions.

When the noise died down, it occurred to Nott that they were standing very, very close. Caleb was facing her, and he was practically leaning against the wall, so she was kept safe on all sides by him and the hanging fabric of his coat. It was kind of embarrassing. Intimate. They were usually only this close when they slept.

“Caleb,” she whispered, pulling out the device. “Look at what I’ve got.” She held it in her hands between their bodies, like a secret shared between two small children, careful and delicate as a butterfly.

“Is that what all the ruckus is about?” he asked. He said it flatly, but Nott felt (hoped) he was definitely at least a little fond.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is,” she told him. Her claws felt along the thing’s seam until she found a latch, and pulled it and opened the cursed thing. A small folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground from inside and revealed a glass face and three long arms. The gentle tick, tick, ticking noise filled the alley. Nott ducked down to pick up the paper, but Caleb didn’t move away, instead reaching out to gently take the machine as she did.

“Oh, this is a pocket watch! It has been, ah, some time since I have seen one,” Caleb explained. “It’s a mechanical device to measure time. I do not need them, because I can keep track in my mind, but perhaps you might find some use for it.”

She nodded but instead examined the paper. It was a sketch, drawn by some excellent, if amateur, artist, depicting a woman with dark hair and a gaggle of children who looked like her. The watch’s former owner stood beside the woman; he looked tired, but happy. The children looked like him, too.

Ah. So her target was a father.

“While this is an excellent find, Nott the Brave,” Caleb said, “let us never do this again, yeah?”

She tucked the paper into her bag, and the watch into Caleb’s pocket. “Okay,” she promised.

**Author's Note:**

> (title is from "take the money and run" by steve miller band)
> 
> my concept for this was originally "caleb and nott in the woods, a spiritual successor to 'they headed down south'" and then they were in deastok and suddenly they were robbing tary and percy. i managed to squeeze their relationship in there somewhere.


End file.
